Calais
by rosebud896
Summary: Christine does not kiss Erik the night of the decision which does not inspire Erik to let her leave with Raoul unharmed. Instead he goes through with the plan he had executed for them. (ALW POTO, no singing, adult themes, E/C)
1. The Long Walk

A/N: I recently rewatched the 2004 Phantom movie and was craving to read a fanfic with Butler's take on the phantom's character but was having a hard time finding one. So I'm going to try and take a swing at it. I am going to change Christine a bit just to give her a bit more character than she was given in the movie. No bashing to Emmy Rossum, she was 15 acting in a male dominated movie, so I'm pretty certain that the direction they gave her was to not have a character arch and just be a docile object through the movie. There will be no cannon singing (sorry I'm not that into musical writing).

I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1 The Long Night

"You try my patience make your choice." He yanked on the rope one more time sending Raoul's eyes to bulge and his face to grow redder. Raoul looked at Christine nodding offering her the courage to declare him dead. Letting him die in exchange for her freedom was as decision for cowards though, and Christine despite her tears and naivety was no coward.

Christine blindly took hold of the tulle that bulged out from her waist as she took a few seconds to take in every feature of her love's face as she knew she would not be seeing him again after she gave her answer. The phantom's heavy breathing and wild eyes were willing her to hurry with her answer.

She released her dress and intertwined her finger in front of her.

"I will go with you," she nearly whispered "husband." He tightened his grasp on the rope before letting it drop into the water.

"Christine," Raoul choke out as strongly as he could. She could see him starting to struggle against the ropes out of the corner of her eye as the menacing figure in the water approached her. His movements were so slow she swore that he was going to pounce on her like a cat does to its toy. She started to shake the closer he came. Her tears were still in full swing and she did not want to stop them. There was a part of her that wanted him to see the suffering he was causing her.

He had reached the shore of the lake and reached his hand to her waist oddly gently. He himself seemed to have gained back a portion of his control. He guided her away from the water to stand by the altar in front of his organ. Raoul's voice was growing stronger and he was not screaming and lashing against the gate.

The phantom took one of the thick-stemmed iron candleholders and blew the candle out atop of it. Christine was confused as he removed the candle itself from the holder and placed it down where the holder had been. Then quickly and with a grimace he drew back the holder and swung it at a covered mirror. Christine flinched and moved backward fearing he was going to hit her.

Instead he dropped the holder with a clang and swung the curtain open to reveal a hallway that was just past the mirror. He looked to Christine and with a deep breath through his open mouth he held his hand up to her and threatened her with just his eyes of what would happen should she not take his hand. Her chin quivered and her hand shook as she took the few steps forward and took his hand. He guided her just past the mirror and let the drape drop back to its original position.

On their prior excursions through the underground of the opera there had always been a few torches lit along the way and he himself had always had a torch of his own to help guide her way. This time the only light that was available was the dim candle lit cave just under the hem of the curtain.

This light was also extinguished as he pulled roughly on a sliding slab of stone. Christine grew panicked knowing that shortly she would be encased in complete darkness with the only man she had met in her life that more closely resembled the devil than the depictions that were shown in her religious texts. She stepped back and touched her fingers to the cool damp walls of the hallway.

He grunted one last time and he pushed the sliding wall to a close. She could still hear the muted sound of Raoul's screaming and now sobbing. Trusting that she could not be seen in the pitch black, she brought her hand to her mouth as she felt a lump in her throat well up that crying could not even release.

Quickly enough her other hand was grasped from her side. She gasped as she was guided forward in the complete darkness. The further she walked the fainter and fainter Raoul's voice grew and she knew that those cries of her name were the last moments she would ever have any contact with him. She was being taken away from her love and her future. She could see no future with the man that was dragging her away from everything she had planned. Everything with him was unknown. Where would they go? How would they have income? Would they have children? Would he expect her to?

She stopped suddenly at the last question that passed through her head as the fear had taken control of her. He dropped her hand and she strained in the dark to see where he was. She sniffled as she panicked at the thought that he had left her alone in the darkness.

She was swept up suddenly and she let out a small audible gasp. When had he snuck behind her, or had she turned around?

He started to walk with her until her senses returned to her. She shimmied around in his arms trying to get him to let her down. He tightened his hold.

"Still," he commanded. His voice was not soft but was not fueled with the pure rage that had taken over him just minutes before. She pulled her hand back and smacked him around where she thought his face was and surely enough came into direct contact with the healthy side of his face. He stopped in his tracks.

"An executioner does not carry his victim to the guillotine; you shall not carry me to my doom."

He dropped her down from his arms. She placed her hand out to the wall to steady herself. He grabbed her upper arm roughly and moved on through the dark with a quicker pace this time than they had before.

They walked for what felt like hours but in truth she could not tell. He never slowed in his quick pace and by the time they had began to slow she knew that the moment she had the opportunity to sleep and rest her sore feet she would gladly take it.

They halted suddenly causing her to scuffle for the wall for balance. He let go of her arm and walked forward. She could hear him shifting around and clanging on something. She could faintly see sparks until a torch erupted into flames. She squinted trying to have her eyed adjust to the sudden burst of light. She looked away from the light and turned to observe the small room that they were now in.

There were several trunks and two passageways guiding to and from the room that they had entered. If she was being honest she didn't know from which they had just come. Throwing propriety to the wind she sat down on top of one of the trunks while he closed off one of the passageways. She assumed now that this was the one from which they had just entered the room from. He clicked a few locks together then quickly turned to the trunk closest to him. He would not make eye contact with her yet, but she could see the tenseness in his jawline.

After fumbling around he found what he was looking for. He pulled a mirror and a clump of beige looking clay out from the trunk. He started to smear the mold onto his face, covering the horrible scars and indentations. After a few minutes of prodding his face looked as closely to a symmetrical face as she believed he could ever get. It was nowhere near perfect; at best he looked as if he had been burned slightly in a war or some sort of accident. He seemed to think so as well and threw the mold back into the trunk.

Next he pulled out another black wig and placed it gently onto his head using the mirror. He looked nearly human now. He reached in again and pulled out a suit and two jackets. He held out the one light blue long jacket to Christine. She took it and gladly slid it on thankful for the warmth that she didn't realize she needed. He was now staring at her deliberately holding his change of clothing.

Christine took the hint and turned around. She looked down at the furry cuffs of her sleeves and gently stroked it. Her thoughts felt muffled. She was sure that the events of the day had left her exhausted as well as shocked. She felt now as if she were just going through motions.

After a few minutes a gloved hand passed her a pair of her own white gloves. She took them and slid them onto her chilled hands. Finally she was passed a few pins for her hair. She sighed in relief and turned around to take use of the mirror he had. He held it up for her and watched her intently as she pulled her hair simply out of her face as best she could. She finished and returned to her seated position.

He stayed put and continued to admire her. She did not see it but for a moment a glimmer of remorse passed through his face. He reached a gloved hand out and gently touched the backside of his hand to her face. The moment the hairs of her face could feel the black leather approaching she jumped to her feet and stood at the doorway that was still left open. The remorse was replaced again with the cold anger. He threw the mirror back into the trunk that shattered on impact.

He positioned a top hat onto his head and took hold of two suitcases. He passed by her through the doorway and led the way continuing on the long dark path.

This time he was not able to physically guide her through the underground and she was forced to use her ears to locate him and follow in the dark. The walk was much shorter this time than she expected. They quickly ceased. He set down the suitcases and opened another door that she had not thought was there.

She had expected to see the morning daylight but she was instead greeted with pale moonlight and simply brighter darkness. She did not recognize the area they were in. She could hear simple tavern music playing somewhere close by and the smell of polluted water wafted toward her. She stepped past the threshold of the underground and stepped into the town.

She looked around confused until the phantom walked past her. She followed him closely after hearing the drunken laughter of a close by man. They walked only a short way until they reached a stable. A single lantern was lit near an already prepared covered carriage. The horses were already tied and started to move as they approached. The phantom placed the cases on the back luggage carrier before opening the door for her and holding out a hand.

The hairs on her neck stood up on edge. This was it. She was disappearing. She could not bring herself to take his hand and willingly place herself into the carriage. He did not push her and he made no movement.

She swallowed and opened her mouth to speak staring into the deep red velvet seat of the carriage.

"Where will we be going?"

"Calais," his voice was stern but not cruel. He did not wish to frighten her at this moment.

Christine closed her eyes and sighed before climbing into the cabby with his help. This was her fate and she convinced herself for the time being that this was all a part of God's plan for her and she would perceiver.

She sat down in the carriage and rested her head against the side of the coach. She closed her eyes for but a moment, however, the second the coach jostled into movement she knew that she would not sleep for many hours.


	2. Canaples

A/N: Haha so I had a read over of the first chapter I posted and realized that there are quite a lot of grammar and spelling issues. To be honest I get too excited while writing and want to just jump into the next chapter right away. So if I ever fully finish this series you can expect that there will be many changes. There is also a short note at the bottom about some of my character, event choices, but I didn't want to spoil anything before the read. Enjoy!

Chapter 2 - Canaples

Christine willed herself to watch the sunrise, after which she fell fast asleep despite the bumpy conditions of the road and the horrors of the day and of her future that plagued her thoughts.

Around midday she awoke as the carriage halted. She looked out the window and found that they stopped at a quaint stable in a small town. The door opened and she found herself staring not at the man she had just awoken from a nightmare about, but instead a jolly, old, fat man that had a large smile on his face.

"Hello there, love! Welcome to Canaples!"

Christine almost cried from the kind man. She thankfully took his hand as he helped her out of the carriage. Another chubby woman wearing an apron and a shawl around her smiled and waved to her from the side.

"How was your journey, sweet? It's such a long way from Reims, you must be exhausted." Christine looked around for the man who had put her through the long treacherous night. She spotted him removing the horses from the carriage and guiding them over to water troughs. "And all that travel on the day of your wedding!" His eyes slowly traveled over to her not halting in his actions. They linked eyes in a silent threat. She would cry but she had no energy, nor tears left to spill. "Come inside now and I will fix you something to eat before you starve yourself." The woman hurried over to Christine and rushed her inside.

Christine looked around the simple inn and took a seat at the table after giving her coat and gloves to the woman.

"Now, what can I get you? We have some nice hot stews and I just baked some hearty pies as well this morning." Christine shook her head.

"If I could have just a warm cup of tea I would greatly appreciate it." The woman smiled pushing her lips together tightly.

"Cold feet? I had the same trouble the day of my wedding. God knows I didn't want to be stuck with that bumble head out there for the rest of my life." The woman shrugged and laughed for a moment, "but He doesn't always give you what you want, He gives you what you need." She kissed her fingers and tapped the crucifix that she had hanging on the wall as she ran into the kitchen.

Christine sat in the silence of the room and slouched ungracefully into her seat. She would be married today. She had not expected the sudden statement and was frankly stunned. The sleep had seemed to make her only number than she had felt the night before. The door opened and she felt her hair prickle at the sight of the amber eyes.

He removed his hat and placed it on the stand close by shortly followed by his jacket and gloves placed into the pocket. He kept his eyes locked on her as he seated himself across the table from her. There were several more moments of silence until he pulled out and object from his pocket and slid it across the table to her.

He removed his hand to reveal a simple yet elegant engagement ring. The single stone in the middle was more marvelous than any of the several that decorated the ring that Raoul had given her. Her lip quivered yet still she had no tears. She brought her fingernails up to her mouth and bit for a moment before sighing and removing the ring that bound her to her love and replaced it with the ring that bound it to her captor. The ring fit perfectly yet she felt the weight of it as if it were several pounds heavier than her prior.

They sat in silence for a short while longer. He never took his eyes off of her the entirety of the silence.

"At the very least, is there a name I may know of my husband?" Christine finally asked. His eyes drifted off a past her shoulder.

"Erik," his rich voice rumbled. She wondered if it was truly his name or yet another deception.

"And what name will I be taking?" He shifted at this question.

"Destler; your name will be Christine Destler." Christine held her hand out on the table and stared at her hand carrying the beautiful stone. A second of wonder let her explore the world in which things had gone differently: a world in which 'Erik' had been a regular man who shared her passion of music and not a murderer. If he had controlled his cruelty she believed that she truly could have loved him. That experience with his mask had been what changed their relationship. She would never deny that his face was in fact horrid, yet she had felt more terrified of his rage than his face. If he had not thrown her to the ground, had not thrown harmful words of wrath at her she might have been able to show him that his face did not matter in matters of love.

She laid her hand flat on the table. Her thoughts had wondered to far into matters that she did not want to think of. She could not love him and she would not think thoughts that would suggest that she did. She brought her eyes back up to his which had never left her.

"I thought we were going to Calais?"

"We will be there by late night. We are just stopping to-"

"Be wed," Christine cut him off. She felt irate but softened when she noticed his eyes shift down to his gloved hands. She didn't feel bad for him for putting them both in their situation, yet she did feel something that made her want to comfort the guilt he was surely experiencing. She knew her empathy was one of her best and worst qualities.

She looked at him more closely. He had not slept in what looked like a few days. He was obviously tired as well from the events of the day prior as well as from driving the carriage through the night into midday.

"We can't rest here just for a day?" She watched him raise his face back to her. He was gentler now than he had been since before the incident.

"We will be leaving Canaples right after the ceremony. You may rest as long as you wish when we reach Calais." He raised his hand up onto the table and ever so gently just slightly stroked her hand gently with his relaxed fingers. Christine allowed the affection to happen despite her anger toward him. She needed a kind gesture.

"Here you go sweetie!" The cheery woman ran out with a hot cup of tea for Christine. Christine sat back up straight with proper posture and took the warm drink to her lips. Erik pulled a watch from his pocket to check the time.

"Would you like me to get you anything?" The woman smiled at Erik who simply shook his head 'no.' "Alright then, I will have a pie ready to go for you when you leave so you can at least have a hearty meal on the road." Erik grimaced a smile and passed her some money out of his pocket.

Erik and Christine left the inn not long after she had finished her cup of tea. They hopped into a different carriage this time with different horses and parted from the stables. Christine leaned her head back against the back of the carriage. She wanted nothing more than to run out of the moving carriage and run away on her own.

The fear of living the remainder of her life with this man welled up within her. She would forever be under his control. His voice would always be haunting her in the morning when she began the day and in the evening when she ended it. His eyes would permanently be following her. She would never be free of him. She wanted to say that it was his murderous tendencies that scared her most of all but it was simply the fact that he haunted her mind. His eyes on her felt like he was setting her skin afire wherever they passed on her skin. His voice made her feel like she would do whatever it was he asked and she thoroughly believe he used it to hypnotize her.

In her panic she failed to realize their approach to a catholic church. The carriage stopped and Christine brought a quivering hand up to her mouth. She pressed her knuckles against her lips when the bright light of the afternoon sun rushed onto her face. A hand was again placed out toward her.

She did not take it and instead placed her hands upon her eyes. She remembered the screams Raoul had let out and his gasps for steady breath as he had fought for her freedom. He had not thought of himself for a moment during his quest for her. She released her hands from her eyes and took hold of Erik's.

They walked hand in hand into the church. It was a simple country church with only a single person sitting in the pews. Christine halted when they reached the first pew. Shaking, she removed the buttons of her coat and was assisted with removing it. She slowly removed each of her gloves and placed them gently in the pocket of the jacket that was now lying on the pew. He had also removed his hat, gloves and topcoat and was now left in a surprisingly modern suit. Erik left her side to walk up the aisle as an elderly man walked in from a door to her right. He was blind and used a cane to help him determine his movements. When he reached the middle aisle he ceased and held his hand out.

"Hello, dear," his voice was soft and sweet and she was glad to have a kind soul present with her at the moment. She took hold of his hand, which he then guided to the crook of his arm. This man was to give her away: a complete stranger. Christine walked with the man careful not to go too fast. A priest was already standing at the alter, whom she came to notice was wearing a blindfold over his eyes. She looked to the person in the pews and found them to also be blindfolded. He had thought through every detail, no one would know what would have come of her.

Christine and the man reached the front of the church. She finally made eye contact with Erik. He was stepping forward to take her hand. The elderly man retracted away and found a seat. Christine breathed unevenly and reached her hand out to make contact with his naked hand. She felt her heart lurch at the mixture of their hands touching and at the intense gaze he held onto her.

He took in every inch of her. His gaze was not the demanding, seducing one he had placed on her during the performance but instead reminded her of the one they shared when he had come with demands for the managers. It was odd that she began to feel comforted as he stared at her so.

They both kneeled in front of the priest. She bowed her head and quickly prayed for courage.

The ceremony was not the full-length mass that she had expected. There were only a few prayers before the priest announced that they would be exchanging vows.

"I ask you now; have you come here freely, without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?"

"We have," both Erik and Christine said in unison looking for each others eyes out of the corner of their own. Christine's breath wavered after her words came out of her mouth.

"Will you love and honor each other as husband and wife for the rest of your lives?"

"We will."

"Will you accept children lovingly from God and bring them up according to the laws of Christ?"

"We will," Christine spoke first and was followed by Erik's softer declaration. This time she fully looked toward him as he was already staring at her.

"You have declared your consent before God," Christine shut her eyes at this, "now with your hands joined, declare that consent." Christine fought the desire to faint and held her hands out for Erik to hold.

"I, Erik, take you Christine to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and bad, in sickness and in health." Erik gently stroked her hand with his own before he continued with a deeper yet softer voice, "I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

"I, Christine take you Erik to be my husband." She paused not knowing, in her rush of adrenaline, the next vow. The priest shifted before guiding her.

"I promise to be true to you in good times and bad, in sickness and in health," she paused again. This time she did know the vow the only objection she faced was that she wondered if she could hold true to this next vow in any way possible. She would not make a vow to her God without being certain that she could stand by it. She truthfully was not certain that she could ever come to fully love this man as her husband. She had thought of Raoul and how easily she could have made this vow in God's presence, but then… She did not know for certain if the love she had for Raoul was that for a husband. She undeniably loved him as her friend, but she had never wanted his affection to be displayed to her after the night on the roof. His touch was comforting until it reached an intimate level and then she would shy away. The priest repeated himself a second time helping to refocus Christine back to Erik who was staring at her with a small glimmer of hope.

"I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

Christine did not break her eye contact with Erik as they waited for the priest to bless the rings. Her mind felt confused. She knew that what this man had forced her to do was quite clearly wrong and sinful, however she wondered if her marriage to him would not be quite as horrendous as she had imagined.

Erik placed a golden ring onto her finger reciting words she did not listen to. She was much to concerned now with her own thoughts than her own wedding.

She followed in the motions he had performed on her and was guided in her speech again by the priest.

The priest laid his stole across their held hands.

"May I guide you as one; father, son and Holy Ghost, make you one, forever and ever. Amen." They were wed. The point of no return had not occurred back in the cavern but was here at this moment. She bound by God to him. She made vows to love and honor him.

Christine did not comprehend the rest of the ceremony. She blindly accepted the body and blood and closed her eyes before she could see a man who had just recently attempted murder accept the body and blood.

Once again they kneeled together as the priest said one final prayer over them wishing them health, happy years, children and grandchildren.

"With pride and joy, I present Madam and Monsieur Destler." The blind man clapped alone in the spacious church.

Christine stood and was guided briefly over to a book that the priest had brought over. Inside a sheet of paper and quill were lying for them to each sign along with the witnesses. Erik guided each of their hands to the spot where they were to sign. Christine was the last to sign the paper before Erik took it.

Slowly they both left the church. He let Christine into the carriage before he closed the church doors. She watched him as he ran back to the carriage and felt the movement of him climbing onto the drivers seat. She heard the crack of the reigns followed by the wedding bells that grew fainter with ever passing second.

A/N:

Just an extra side note about the wedding for those who are a little curious. Catholic weddings don't prompt the bride and groom to kiss in the church, so sorry if you were hoping for that kiss there. Christine has always been depicted religious so I wanted to keep that a part of her character and Catholicism was the leading religion in France in the 19th century and while Christine was from Sweden which I believe was predominately Lutheran for a while, she was taken in by Madam Giry who, if she was from France, was likely Catholic and in which case, most likely would have converted her to Catholicism if she was under her care.

The Black Shadowed Starling: Thanks for the recommendations. To be honest I'm looking for something that tries to match Gerard Butler's depiction of Erik but thank you for offering! Haha I was surprised when I read the first line of the one fanfic, I thought I clicked on my own story. I guess that is a good place to pick up from though from the movie/musical.


	3. By the Sea

Chapter 3 By the Sea

Christine did not sleep for a moment in the carriage despite her exhaustion. The carriage only stopped once for them to stretch their legs and relieve themselves at a small tavern. Christine did not venture far from Erik when they had stopped. She did not particularly enjoy the rambunctious company on this day.

As he helped her back into the carriage she stopped him before he shut the door.

"How much longer will we be riding for?"

"We will arrive in a few more hours." Christine looked up at the already moonlit sky.

"Will it be morning when we arrive?"

"It will be late night, you may rest as soon as we arrive," Christine looked at his still heavy eyes.

"Don't you need rest, you have been awake all through the night." Erik smiled only simply before closing the door without a word. Again she felt the carriage shift from his climbing into the drivers seat.

She did not close her eyes for a moment. Despite that the ride was at the very least four hours she wished it had gone on longer. The sea came into her view. She could see the twinkling reflection the moon cast onto the tips of waves. They road along a path that laid next to the sea for only an hour longer before the carriage came to a stop. Christine moved over to the other seat so that she could see the house that they had pulled up to.

The house was beautiful. It appeared to be a three-story mansion. There were large window and a huge garden that spanned from the side and appeared to travel to the back of the house. The shore looked as if it were only a mile or less away down a path that led out from the garden. She thought that this would be a very beautiful place to spend the night at had it not been for her wedding night.

The door swung open. Christine took her husband's hand and descending down onto the ground. The air was crisp and carried the sea to her nose. She shivered before accepting Erik's help to guide her to the inn.

"Will the innkeepers be awake so late?" Christine whispered when they reached the steps to the porch.

"This is no inn, this is our home." Christine chilled. She was swept up again into Erik's arms as he carried her up the stairs and in through the front doors, which a silent man was holding open. She was set down as her senses came about her. The man at the door removed her coat and took her gloves. Erik also handed his coat and gloves to the man.

Christine looked around the entrance. There was a chandelier hanging just a few feet in front of her with gorgeous cascades of crystal. The stairs were lined with rich red carpet. And the carpet beneath she could already tell was soft to the touch despite her heeled shoes.

"If you would like to eat there is a dinner prepared, however, given the hour you may retire if you so wish."

Christine brought her attention back to her husband. She knew she was very hungry. Her stomach had been lurching since she awoke from her nap, however, she knew that she could not stomach a bite of food at the moment.

"I am not hungry." Christine's voice had been dull. He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her up the stairs. She felt her steps losing pace the farther they walked. Her wedding had been one nightmare she had survived she was not sure she would survive the night. Erik stopped at a doorway in the dimly lit hallway. Even above ground he lived in darkness. He unlocked and opened the doorway.

Christine shook as she took her first few steps into the room. The room was decorated in soft blues with deep brown woods. There were two large windows in the room as well as an alcove of windows with a beautiful rocking chair placed in the middle of it. It looked entirely like something she would have picked for herself, yet nothing that she would imagine Erik would ever wish for.

She turned around to look for him but he had vanished and the door had been shut. She darted her head around the room looking for where he would jump out from but could not see any trace of him. Running to the door she easily yanked it open despite her thought that the door would have been locked, confining her to the beautiful bedroom. She peaked her head out into the hallway and looked both ways. Still, he was not present.

Christine backed into her room shutting the door as she did and questioned for a moment if she should lock the door making her desire to not be touched known. She pulled her hand away knowing that even if she did lock the door he would still find a way in to her should he desire so. She looked around the room in search of what she needed most. The first spot she looked were the dresser drawers. Inside she found beautiful and soft pairs of socks, undergarments, and nightgowns. She pulled one of the nightgowns out and set it aside and continued on her search mission. Her next decision proved useful. She opened the night side table drawer and found a soft silk pouch inside which contained a rosary.

Christine knelt down beside the bed and kissed the rosary before marking her forehead, chest and shoulders. She closed her eyes and began going through the prayers she had recited hundreds of times throughout her life but she had not prayed them with such conviction in the years since her fathers passing.

She reached the end of the half hour long prayer cycle and rested the beads inside the pouch she had found them in. Christine wobbled onto wobbly legs before walking behind the divider that she used to ungracefully claw at her wedding gown until she undid the last of the buttons. She did not know how she had been able to button the dress on her own the day before but was sure it had to due with her racing heart. There was a pair of slippers and a silk robe behind the divider, which she threw on atop of her nightdress and tied tightly to her body.

Did she hear the door open? She froze. The image of Erik standing in the room, with that look in his eyes like he would devour her in flames if she let him, flooded into her mind. The sensation in her stomach welled up again as it had when she was on the stage with him. She pulled the folds of the robe closer on her body and placed her cool hands onto her cheeks. She stilled her breath and listed for a moment before poking her head around the corner. No one. It must have been someone down the hall. Christine ran for the night table and retrieved the rosary beads once again wishing to rid herself of the image of Erik's gaze on her on that stage.

Christine did not know when she had fallen asleep and did not recall climbing into the lush bed or pulling the covers back and neatly placing them back atop of her, however, she awoke under such circumstances with the bright sun shinning through the many large windows, alone. Her eyes groggily took a few tries before fully opening. She immediately looked next to her on the bed to find she was the sole body within it. Silently, she thanks God for his. She looked around the bed for the rosary she had last remembered being in her hands and did not find it until she checked the nightstand where it was placed perfectly back in its drawstring pouch.

She climbed out of the bed and remade it before heading over to the drawers where the clothing she had found the day prior was located. She dressed herself with moderate difficulty. The buttons between her shoulder blades had always been a task for Meg or another dancer to aid her with, as she would take on the task for others.

The hallway was still empty. Christine walked out into it and heard faint mumbling. As she approached the balcony of the second floor to overlook the first floor she poked her head over the railing to see who was talking.

Erik was standing by the entrance doorway wearing his white half mask; talking to the man she had seen the night prior. The man only nodded every few minutes as Erik spoke to him in a low tone. The man nodded one last time and he left the door. Erik waited for the door to close before slowly turning his head to look directly up at Christine. She shriveled up in his gaze and backed away from the banister. She walked toward the stairs and descended down to meet him.

She had been thinking so much the night prior of his gaze from the opera that she had not expected to see him watching her with the admiration he had once cast on her a night many months ago when she had first met him.

"Good morning," Christine nearly whispered her breath catching in her throat. He simply nodded his head gently to her.

"Come, breakfast will be getting cold." Erik walked passed her. Christine followed him. They walked passed the stairs and down the hall to a room that opened up into a dinning room. There was already a spread settled out on the end of the table. Erik pulled a seat out for Christine. She took the seat he offered and waited for him to sit at the head of the table beside her. They both pulled a napkin into their lap. Christine reached for the teapot that laid close to her and poured herself a full cup of it. Erik pulled some meats and bread onto his plate. Christine held tight to the teapot in her hands. The porcelain was burning but she could not feel it.

She freely stared at him as he switched from taking bites of food to reading a newspaper he was quickly screening with his eyes. She thought for a moment that he was not the phantom beneath the opera house. In this moment he was but a man savoring his breakfast with his wife by his side. It was as if the spell of the ghost had been broken simply by grotesque realism. Her eyes shut tight and opened again and her vision had been corrected. He was staring at her with his full attention now: no paper in hand, no food being chewed in his strong jaw.

Christine dropped the kettle straight into her lap sending the steam of the hot teapot up into her face. She winced and was quickly pulled out of the seat by Erik.

"Foolish," was the only word he grunted out. There was more he wished to snap but did not allow it.

Christine brought her hands up to her cheeks before bringing them in front of her face. There was light pruning on them from the heat of the kettle. Erik noticed her exploration and snatched her hands to himself. His hands were colder than she imagined the air outside was and found it soothing on her hot skin. He didn't sigh but his exasperation was evident. She felt like he viewed her as an unruly child.

He guided her through another door and into a short hallway that led to a fairly large kitchen. Cold water spouted out of a deep sink that he pulled her hands under.

"Wait," she instinctually pulled her hand away upon seeing the gold band nearing the water. She twisted the small ring off her finger and placed it on a shelf above the sink before placing her hands under the water. Christine did not think much of the small act and did not notice the glimmer in Erik's eyes as he stepped back and allowed her to tend to herself.

"I'll put on another pot of tea," Erik brought a kettle over to the sink and used the second faucet to fill with water. Christine watched him with a genuine curiosity. She was not sure what she had imagine Erik to do in an environment away from the opera but the image of him casually eating or filling a kettle had certainly never occurred to her. Erik briefly caught her gaze from the side of his vision. She did not shy away from it but acknowledged it and his question.

"I never imagined you to be a cook." She turned the faucet off, dried her hands and took the pot from him. She placed the kettle on a burner and stoked the embers of the stove that had just recently begun to die from the preparation of breakfast.

"I am a man just as the rest. A man must eat, mustn't he?" She let out a small laugh at this and stood back up once the fire was warm enough. She hadn't realized with her back turned that Erik had been in fact annoyed with his statement. He relaxed at the sight of her smile. "Shall we continue with breakfast?" Christine nodded and they retreated to the dinning room together.

At the end of breakfast, Christine began to collect the dishes to bring to the kitchen but was stopped by a simple halting hand.

"Luc will attend to it." Christine placed the plates back down.

"Luc is the man who greeted us last night," She questioned. Erik nodded curtly and picked her hand up gently.

"He is a butler of sorts," Erik picked Christine's hand up, there was a slight twitch in her fingers to pull away. "Would you like a tour of the house and grounds?" Christine nodded and allowed him to guide her back to the front of the house.

She did not believe she had a conversation with him so long since before he exposed himself to her at the Phantom and not her Angel of Music. He brought her through every room of the house describing to her the architecture, which she learned he had designed himself. He had however hired an interior designer whom he gave very specific instructions to.

Every room had elegant drapes covering the massive windows that despite the freezing temperature outside barely brought in a draft. The parlor had one of the largest fireplaces she had ever seen inside a home. There was a beautiful music room as well on the first floor that contained a baby grand piano and a few string instruments that were placed in their cases for the time being.

He brought her up the stairs like he had the night before, with his hand on her back. She knew he could feel her tension but didn't mind. She didn't want his hands on her.

They reached the landing and he skipped her bedroom, as she already had seen the room. He showed her two of the guest bedrooms and a small library, office and drinking parlor that were also on the second floor. There was one unopened room that they did not open as he began to guide her up to the third floor.

"I believe you've missed a room," she looked at the shut oak door. Erik shifted his weight briefly between his foot on the first step and his foot on the floor.

"It is an empty room, perhaps you can find use for it for it as a tea room," he seemed to have made up his answer, but Christine could not tell. He had always been an excellent liar but she knew he squirmed under social interactions he didn't know how to handle. She followed him to the third floor which contained an office and Erik's room. He did not allow her to enter this room but did invite her into a second music room. This room had a dome ceiling and a full grand piano. Just from speaking she could tell this room was designed for singing. The acoustics carried Erik's voice to her despite that he was whispering to her from the opposite side of the room.

The last set of stairs Christine came to was a spiral set just at the end of the hallway. She could feel a chill as they reached the top of the stairs. She gasped at the site before her. The room had been the tower of the house. It was very small and contained only two armchairs and a chest. What was spectacular about the room was the view. There were windows on every wall giving them a 360 degree view of the beach and the forest that surrounded them.

The sea captivated Christine. She had not seen it since she was a girl. She was filled with memories of enjoying dipping her feet in the water with her father and splashing around with Raoul. Christine sat in one of the chairs and listened to the sound of the seagulls calling out. She felt like she had fallen asleep while awake. She gazed out and blindly watched the white crests crashing into the beach.

A warm blanket dropped onto her lap and another onto her shoulders. Erik gently descended the stairs without stirring Christine from her thoughts, whatever they might have been. The tour of the grounds would wait for another day, they had the entirety of their lives to explore that together.


	4. Holy Day

Chapter 4 Holy Day

A week went by without Christine noticing. She felt as if she had been living through the motions and barely allowing her mind to speak. Erik and her only saw each other at some meals. He would offer to take her on a tour of the grounds each day and each day she would deny him. She would take a book from the library and sit with it unread in the tower despite the biting cold. It was not that she enjoyed blindly watching the sea, it was just that she felt as if she had no other motivation to continue her life than to see the beautiful world her God had placed her in.

Luc cam up the stairs with a hot cup of tea that he placed on the small table she had asked him to move up to the room a few days prior. His small smile graced his lips and he sat down with her like he did everyday.

Luc was mute and he could not write. It was difficult to have a discussion with him but Luc was not much for a discussion, he enjoyed simply the company of a friend. Christine and him grew a friendship quickly. She didn't believe he knew anything of her situation but she knew that he was aware of her despair. Each day he would bring a warm cup of tea to her with a smile and settle down next to her to keep her company.

The next day would be Sunday and Christine realized with great worry that she did not have as easy access to a church as she did within Paris.

"Is there a church close by?"

Luc looked to her slightly surprised. She hadn't talked much and it showed in the way her voice cracked. He thought for a moment then nodded. He stood and turned his back to their normal view and pointed out in the forest. Christine nearly jumped to her feet and looked in the direction of his finger. She found the tips of a small cluster of buildings peeking through the tops of the trees. She almost gasped. Christine had been so lost in her thoughts looking at the sea that she had not thought to look into the forest. There was a small town that looked like it was not too far from the house. There also seemed to be another house standing alone that also seemed to be just a carriage ride away.

"That's wonderful," Christine smiled at the thought of going to church and meeting other residents of the small town.

Christine picked her book up and began to read the book for the first time since her arrival.

Dinner started off quiet, much like it had every other night. Christine's apprehension was not missed though. Erik would watch her out of the corner of his eye whenever she would not be aware of his gaze.

"What is on your mind," Erik cautiously asked when he noticed Christine set her fork down without eating anything off of it for the third time. Christine set it down once more before dabbing her mouth gently with the interior corner of her napkin.

"I was just wondering what time tomorrow mass would take place."

Erik nearly gritted his teeth and place his utensils back upon his plate himself. Christine did not shrink back into her chair.

"You will not be going to mass tomorrow."

His response seemed as is he thought his decision to be final.

"No?" Christine seemed to swell with some emotion that Erik had not seen in her before.

"No, you will not." Erik made eye contact with Christine. He stood up and angrily threw his napkin down on his chair.

"So I will not be attending the mass I have made a promise to God to attend should my health permit it?" Erik ceased in his wide strides just at the archway into the hallway.

""Yes, that is what I said." He staid turned away from her. She took a sip of her wine.

"Are you suggesting that the promises I have made to the church are of no importance?"

"It is not your promises to the church, it is your promises to me that are of importance," he turned on her growling.

"Am I not keeping my promise." Christine felt strength in her that she did not know she had. She rose out of her seat and approached him herself. "You demanded that I marry you and participate in a normal life as a husband and wife should. Attending church is very much a normal activity of a married couple." Erik's fury seemed to rage but he allowed her to continue. "We made our vows to God and I will honor them, but I will honor all my vows to Him."

Erik was silent. An insidious grin had grown on his face in a manner most menacing. His wife reviewed her words: 'all their vows.'

"We will see," he snapped and took off away from Christine.

She went cold.

What would they see?

Had she just promised to lie with her husband?

She took her set and shivered in a breath while taking a long and slow sip of wine.

Christine stayed at the dinner table until long after the food had grown cold and Luc came to collect the plates. He offered several times to refill her emptied wine glass and to each she denied. Her will was stronger than his and she would not be bullied into a life of quiet submission. If he were to have her he would see her displeasure and her fear and be given necrophilia alternative.

The clock struck ten rising Christine to her feet. She breathed heavy, wrung her hands and clutched tight to her dress skirt as she made her way upstairs to her bedroom.

Stopping at her door she waited and listened with her hand on her doorknob. She knew that Erik could very well be on the other side despite the lack of sound. He never really made a noise unless he wanted to. She listened for a moment more before deciding that she would never be able to tell.

Taking a moment to compose herself she opened the door and anticipated him standing right inside the room, just in the middle with his burning eyes instantly placed on her. Yet, he was not there. He was not present in the room at all.

Christine sighed in relief. Her quivering fingers came to the back of her dress and began to unbutton the long line down her back. She hoped that over time it would grow easier to do on her own, sadly, a week had not shown to be enough time. Her fingers came to the most difficult spot, it was too low to reach by going over her shoulder and too high to reach by going under.

The hot and rough finger tips of Erik grazed hers on their journey to her buttons. She did not turn around but she jumped and snatched her hands up to her mouth to stifle a shriek. She looked up to the dark windows in front of her and saw him standing behind her, still in his evening attire. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had and her legs were tense and ready to take off in a moments notice. Yet, instead she staid rooted to her spot.

He snapped his eyes to her in the window. She could feel the heat of his fingertips radiate into the skin of her back. She watched his eyes travel down her hair and neck down to the button that was waiting to be released. He pulled, ever so gently, at the fabric and the button was liberated. He brought his eyes back up to Christine's in the mirror. She had stilled and was watching him with a slow and deep breath.

He turned on his heel and sped to the door.

"Mass begins at ten sharp, we will depart promptly at quarter past nine."

He left the room and shut the door behind him softly. Christine watched him retreat in the window. There was a pull in her that she couldn't define. Slowly she reached up under her arm and undid the next button with ease. Sleep came more uneasy than it had on prior nights and she looked forward for the purity of the church.

There was a quiet between them when they met at the front door the next morning. Christine was dressed in the most modest and beautiful dress she could find in her wardrobe. Erik was also dressed in one of his best suits.

Erik fetched Christine a thick coat paired with a fur muff. He did not open the door to the brisk air until he saw Christine securely place both of her hands inside the safety of the muff after her cloak coat had been buttoned up. The air was brisk but not nearly as cold as she thought it would be for late February by the sea. They left together and walked down the road of their house.

Christine had not breathed fresh air in a week and despite the light breeze chilled with the salty air she reveled in it. She did not realize how the heat had been affecting her. The cold was refreshing. It took away the heat she felt from Erik's touch as he held her hand and back to help her step over a patch of ice.

After walking for twenty minutes they reached a small town. There were a few people walking in the same direction as they. Many were walking together in groups. Christine watched a teenage girl walking behind her parents, slow at pace from reading her book. She saw a group of young women chattering away while their father ushered them along. There were two men thoughtfully in discussion standing on the corner.

Seeing so many people participating in their lives as if they did not notice Erik in the town was astonishing. She was so used to people reacting with horror at the mention of him and now it was as if he was nothing more than a normal man. She looked up to him and saw that he had applied the mold he used the night of their departure. He had grown more skilled with the application, he could have been handsome were it not for the deformity; yet, she felt as if the mold made him appear like someone so different that he was no longer the human version of the angel she had grown to know but an entirely different person. She didn't like it.

They continued their walk an arrived at the church soon enough.

They took a seat toward the back of the church. Christine did not fight Erik on this, she knew she had already won one argument and did not wish to push her luck. Another couple sat down just in front of them. The woman held an infant child in her arms. Christine sat a little taller to catch a glimpse of the sleeping child. She smiled seeing the long lashes of the babe and the slight movement of it's lip as it suckled on it. The woman noticed Christine's gaze and turned gently back toward her.

"Good morning," her husband spoke to Christine and held a hand out to Erik.

"Erik Destler."

"Ludovic Montbelliard, and this is my wife, the lady Sophie Montbelliard." Erik and Ludovic shook hands. Christine and Sophie smiled at each other. Christine felt oddly excited for a moment. Nobody recognized her or the scandal regarding her and the alleged opera ghost. There were people all through the church and no one had taken a second look at them. Ludovic and Sophie were making casual conversation with Christine which brightened her spirits. Christine looked over to Erik when Ludovic casted a question in his direction. She had not noticed how Erik look as if he were about to bolt from the church. Gently, she placed her hand on his arm to stir him from his fixated gaze at the blessed figures of Mary, Joseph and Christ in front of them. He instantly adjusted his attention from the figures to Christine's hand at his bicep, to her face and finally back to Ludovic.

"My apologies," his voice came out in the low raspy breathe. Despite Christine's dislike of him she reveled in his voice. It was more intoxicating than any wine she had ever tasted. "I work as an architect. I am practically retired currently but I do take some small jobs once in a great while."

"An architect? You didn't happen to design that beautiful house that was just built to the north of the church?"

Erik did not speak this time but nodded.

"Congratulation on such a wonderful project. Have you just moved in there, I don't believe I have seen you at masses before." Erik stiffened and Christine guessed it was from the idea of continuing in small talk.

"We just moved in this past week."

"Already a week," Sophie pitched in, "I did not even hear of anyone preparing the house. We had planned to throw a proper ball to introduce everyone to our new neighbors!" She seemed nearly disappointed.

"Yes, we shall throw you a proper ball. Does the third Saturday of February sound appropriate?" Both Christine and Erik stiffened this time, filled with the memories of the last ball they were both in attendance of.

"Oh, please, there is no need for such frivolity on our behalf," Christine reasoned.

"Nonsense, we insist," Ludovic smirked back at Erik as if he were doing them a favor, not realizing the discomfort the two were in.

The ceremony went on in which the pastor left time to offer a welcome to Erik and Christine. Many heads turned back to where they were. Erik nodded in the same manner that he had earlier. Christine adorned a quaint smiled and bowed her head in a similar manner.

He seemed to be squirming and yearning to leave. Christine knew that the few times she had seen him in crowds had been moments in time in which he were making a spectacle out of himself or others. She knew that he probably preferred intimate conversation opposed to the dull uncomfortable small talk with large groups of people. At last the mass came to an end and Erik hurriedly grabbed Christine by her elbow and directed her to the exit.

His effort ceased.

"Ah, there you are," the old pastor held his hand out. Christine could feel the rumble in Erik's chest but managed to miss the sound of it leaving his mouth.

"Hello father," Christine took hold of the very frail looking mans hand.

"I must admit, I expected to meet with you at some point before your first mass in our little town, but I am sure you must have been tired from moving." His speech was slower than any lullaby Christine had ever heard.

"Yes we were quite tired father, I will be sure to come by sometime during the week to speak with you."

"I am looking forward to it, dear."

Erik once again grabbed Christine by her arm and nearly dragged her since her pace was not quick enough to keep up with him.

They were silent on the journey home together. All that could be heard was the sound of the bells retreating in the distance. They arrived home in which Erik hastily slammed the door and locked it. The moment this action was complete every muscle in his body seemed to relax.

Never in Christine's mind would she ever imagine Erik to be afraid of anything. Seeing him relax compared to the apprehensive man he had been for the past hour and half led her to understand that he had been terrified. His actions were like that of the ballerina's when they claimed they were afraid a ghost were chasing them up the stairs. They would calm the moment the jumped into their beds. He calmed the moment there was a barrier between him and the eyes of humans. She wondered if he were afraid that they would discover his shame or if he were simply afraid of people.

He walked over to Christine and helped her remover her jacket before placing it on the rack nearby. Without taking his off he wordlessly walked over to the armchair in the front parlor. Christine watched as he sat silently by a heavy fire. She removed her muff and hat and set it down before leaving the entrance. When she returned she came with a bowl of warm water and a rag.

She brought the bowl gently into the front parlor and set it down on a nearby table. He shifted his eyes over to look at her. She approached him as if he were a starving wolf in the night.

Coming from behind the armchair she delicately placed her finger on the sides of his coat and gently pulled. He closed his eyes relaxing into her gentle touch. He leaned forward to let her pull the jacket from him. She left the parolor to place the jacket on the rack as well then returned to him with a pair of slippers and a robe. She sat on the foot stool in front of him and removed his boots from his feet. He watched her as if he were absorbed into an elaborate piece of music.

She placed the slippers on his feet and helped him into the robe on top of his vest.

Finally after he was settled into a lounge outfit she brought the bowl of water to place on the floor by her. She wrung out the cloth and the footstool to the side of the armchair. He realized what she was about to do and retreated to the stiff body he had been earlier. He grabbed her forearm as she brought the cloth to his concealed face.

With her other arm she carefully brought her hand up to meet where he had clutched onto her arm. His hand felt like sandpaper compared to the soft pads of her fingertips guiding his hand away from her arm. She allowed him to hold her hand as she gently began to dab his face with the cloth.

Slowly the beige clay began to melt down his face and reveal the red irritated skin beneath. After a few minutes he leaned his head back and closed his eyes again. Christine felt the corner of her mouth twitch at the sight. After a few more minutes the water was completely murky with the residue of the mold. He looked so peaceful in the chair even with his hideous face exposed that Christine wondered if he had fallen asleep. She stood to clean up the bowl along with his shoes. He opened his eyes and held onto her hand slightly and she moved to capture every last moment of contact he could with her. She stopped, looking back at him. They held a gaze with each other until the sound of Luc entering and locking the back door met their ears.


	5. Jude the Obscure

Chapter 5

Jude the Obscure

* * *

Erik made his presence more available to Christine after that Sunday. He would not sulk away in his office for the entirety of the day and in return she agreed to accompany him on a short stroll each morning. They did not speak much but the extended time that they spent with each other helped Christine to feel more comfortable around him.

They ate their meals together, which Christine would help Luc prepare. She could not bear to sit idle in the tower and dream of another life that could have been. It broke her down too harshly the week prior. She spent her time instead experimenting with embroidery, a talent she had never possessed, reading a few books from the library and exploring the house and what was inside of it.

Erik had everything anticipated for before their arrival. There were several dozens of candles and canisters of oil. The linen seemed endless yet fresh. There was potpourri and china and medical supplies. She had thought of making a list to see when she came across something that was needed but was not in the house. She thought of the moment that she would need something she would throw the list at him in triumph. She could not imagine his reaction as anything but stunned. She giggled at the thought as she read her book.

"What amuses my wife?" She halted. She snapped up from her book suddenly fearful of her fantasy being discovered.

He was standing in the archway to the library.

"I was reading…"

His eyes drifted downward at the title, _Jude the Obscure._ The novel was new but she had no doubt that he had already read it. She slams it shut.

"I-I-I was just thinking, I wasn't actually focusing on the book."

"And what does my wife think up that is so humorous as she reads such a book?" He didn't seem angry but she knew he was looking to hurt himself with her answer.

"I was thinking of everything that you have supplied me, I mean us, and I…" she took a deep breath and set the book down on the small table beside her armchair, "I was thinking of what would happen should I finally find something that I need."

"What did you think would happen?"

 _Why must he know my every thought?_

"I thought I might," she hid a giggle by adjusting her lips. "I thought I might rub it in your face as a child might and that you would," Christine began to laugh, "be completely astounded. I just imagined your facial reaction is all." Christine brought her hand gently to her mouth.

He did not appear as amused as her. He looked between the book and her face and sighed. _I laughed thinking of your face._ Christine realized just what he was insinuating from what she had just said. He turned to leave but she jumped from her seat after him.

"It's been much too quiet in here," she played with the tip of her index finger. He turned slightly to listen to her.

"Would you play me something?"

They traveled up to the top floor in silence. There was a light snowfall that dusted the windows outside of the domed room. Erik walked right to the piano and lifted the lid.

He took a seat on the seemingly unused bench and placed his fingers on the keys. She stood behind him and watched his shoulders relax just before he let the first chord enchant the room.

It enveloped her

She closed her eyes remembering the comfort of her old friend. Christine hadn't heard the melody before but could not mistake the composer for anyone except Erik. There was pain in every key he played. She wasn't sure if this was a piece he had composed a while ago; due to the sound which was so different from what she had heard him play before their marriage.

The pieces he played her on the nights when he stole her from above ground were passion filled anger that made Christine loathe herself for having the remnants of human sin in her soul, but also feel the need to indulge in the monster that she had buried deep with holy oil and chaste prayers.

Christine circled around him, slowly. There was a draw to comfort that she knew all too well.

When she came to the side of the piano, he would not look at her. He was absorbed into the instrument as if there were nothing else in the room. He continued his solemn song.

She watched his face and noticed a slight lifted furrow in his brow.

Guilt.

She saw it.

She could hear it.

She could practically feel it from the sorrowful vibrations ringing in the air.

He was bearing his cross of the horrible deeds he had built up for himself, and perhaps, that others helped to build as well.

Christine began to hum unknowingly a duet. Her voice was damaged from being idle, but she kept her side simple and true.

She needed to forgive him: for herself, for him and for their marriage.

His eyes linked onto her as she hummed. She couldn't quite do it yet, but she knew with the guidance of her new priest and some time spent with Erik that they could get there.

Erik let his song end along with hers, yet his gaze held fast to her gentle eyes.

The quiet was less stifling.

"When did you compose that," Christine asked feeling awkward under his observation.

"Just now." Christine could have cried, however, she fought the urge to allow such dramatics. She knew he was not very capable of comfort.

"I thought it was beautiful, thank you."

He only nodded. She took a few steps past him, deciding that she should prepare their supper.

He listened to her every footstep until they halted then retreated back towards him. He felt his heart rate pickup, remembering the last time she had snuck up behind up while he sat at a keyboard.

Instead of removing his mask from his face without the slightest regard towards him and his wishes, she instead placed her hand gently on his shoulder and pressed her lips to the top of his head.

He exhaled audibly.

Her footsteps this time did not waiver as she walked away.

Once outside the room, Christine closed the door to allow him the privacy she was sure he needed. Luc was waiting for her in the kitchen with a chicken which was already rid of its head and feathers.

"Alright, I'm ready," Christine smiled at him. They both stopped short as a melody rang through the walls.

Sunday came too fast for Erik and too late for Christine. After their pleasant condition with each other during the past week, he had allowed her to go to confessional for the first time since just before Don Juan. She decided to keep it light for her first confessional. She wanted to one day have a more in depth conversation with Father Delacroix, but knew that she would have to wait until they had a stronger bond.

She felt more fresh this week walking to church. There was a slight smile on her face as she thought about seeing the couple they had encountered the week before.

She wore something a bit prettier this week. She wanted the town to see her as one of them.

Erik seemed to be dragging his feet, but at the sight of Christine practically prancing to church with her pretty hair blowing and her cheeks turning pink from the cold, he found that the walk was at least enjoyable.

The ringing of the church bells summoned them in to the same seat they had taken the week prior. There were more heads peering over their shoulders at Erik and Christine. The gossip of the new couple in the new and luxourious mansion had spread through the small town and people where gently curious of the new neighbors.

A young boy walking with his mother stopped as he saw Christine in the pew. His parents didn't notice he stopped and left him as they continued down the aisle with reverence.

Christine did not notice until she felt Erik shift uncomfortably in the seat next to her. She looked up and caught the small child in the corner of her eye.

"Good morning little one." Christine whispered gently to the boy who seemed only just old enough to speak well enough to hold simple conversation.

"Good morning Madam," Christine smiled widely at the sweet and innocent voice.

"May I help you with something?"

"Henri!" A scolding whisper came from a woman coming down the aisle. The boy snapped to the attention of the woman quickly shuffling toward him. She neared Erik and Christine. "I apologize, my son is not yet clever with his manners." She had the boy clutched by his upper arm.

"It's no worry, Madam." Christine noticed the black dress the woman wore an the stressed skin underneath her eyes. "The presence of children brings me joy."

The woman nodded still not smiling and walked away with her child at her side. Christine watched the woman walk back to her pew where two other boys, both older in age, kneeled next to an elderly woman. Christine had not thought of life after her own marriage yet as she had only ever looked forward to beginning it in her life before the past few weeks. She suspected that the life of a widow was no life to desired. Even if ones husband was not ideal.

"Hello," a pleasant voice sang and drew near. Christine and and exasperated Erik turned to find Sophie scooting into the pew next to them with little Marie in her arms followed by her husband who look sleepy for 10 o'clock in the morning.

"Good morning," Christine greeted. Erik silently nodded to Ludovic who also seemed to appreciate the silence.

"I apologize, my husband gets a bit excited with his night caps on Saturdays."

"There is nothing to worry about," Christine smiled felt as if she were glowing. The prospect of having a friend she could talk to made her hope that her life would find a bit of normalcy inside her fancy new home.

"Sophie, if you don't mind, could you tell me whom that woman is in the front with the three children. She seemed a bit tired as well and we didn't get the chance to introduce ourselves." Sophie's eyebrows drew in a pityfull furrow.

"She is Madam Comtois, her late husband, Christophe passed away from illness. Her mother-in-law, who is also widowed, has moved in with her to help with the boys who are…" Sophie sighed and pursed her lips, "quite difficult." Christine nodded.

The sermon begun and Christine found herself unable to focus. She was excited to have a change in environment. She watched the other townspeople singing their hymns and instructing their children on proper behavior. She watched one elderly nod off right in the front pew.

The mass went by quicker than they normally had in the past but Christine did not feel the disappointment in the end as she had the week prior. Erik still seemed tense and ready to leave so she would not dally in their departure, but she was stopped by Sophie when they stood.

"Christine," I was hoping that before our ball this week that Monsieur Destler and yourself might come over for lunch with us. So that we might get to know each other a bit better before we host you," Christine felt selfish for not inviting Sophie over to Erik's home but she knew that he could be a threat to anyone who stepped near their home. She looked back to Erik in question who seemed apprehensive.

"What day did you have in mind?"

"Well I know it's short notice but I was thinking Tuesday." Sophie and Christine both looked to Erik with pleading eyes. He seemed to bar his teeth before curtly nodding. Apparently his only form of communication outside of the house… and sometimes in.

"We would be delighted to, thank you for offering."

"Wonderful, we are just down the road from you to the east."

Christine nodded and smiled knowing that Erik probably already knew who everyone was and where they lived.

After they said their goodbyes Erik took hold of Christine's arm. She smiled to him and patted his hand as they rushed away.

The response when they arrived home was no different from the week before. Erik made sure to slam the door shut when they entered.

He went to storm away but Christine snatched him by arm much like Madam Comtois did to her son. He wouldn't look her in the face but huffed out of breath and held his hand over his face. She took off his hat this time and placed it on the holder. He took another stiff breath and helped Christine out of her jacket and muff.

She placed them on the rack for him, hoping that her clothing wouldn't suffer his wrath as the door had and began to work on his own. She unbuttoned his overcoat all the way and unbound him from the scarf he had used to help hide his face. Once she removed it, he made to storm off again but once more she took his arm in her gentle hands and guided him to the front parlor.

Once more she fetched a bowl of warm water, his robe and his slippers and washed the clay from his face. There was less anger in him this week yet more frustration. She began to hum the tune she had hummed with him earlier in the week. She knew not to force him to speak his problems out. Christine could only handle one battle with him at a time. Bringing music back into their lives would help to soothe their hurt in these situations, but there was much to fix between them yet.

He looked younger with the water soaking his face and making the loose strands of hair stick to his face. Christine wiped his face one last time sitting on the arm of the chair. His eyes had stayed closed the entire time. He didn't want to see his Christine's reaction to his face being revealed, even though she had never actually had a negative reaction to his face… just his anger.

He flinched when he was met with soft skin of the back of her hand. This forced him to snap his eyes open to meet hers. There was almost a smile on her lips as she traced his jawline. Her fingers shifted so that the pads of her fingers could cup his jaw. She brought his face close to hers so that her lips could gently press on his forehead.

Erik's breath released with what seemed like ages worth of tension. He relaxed into her hand and brought his own up to press her hand deeper into his face. He let this happen just a moment more before turning an kissing the palm of her hand and letting her go.

She eased down onto the ground and leaned her head against the arm of the chair. They sat together watching the fire die until Luc shutting the back door summoned Christine to return to the kitchen.

She didn't think that she would mind this Sunday routine.

Monday and Tuesday morning were difficult. Erik seemed to be both wanting to be seen but also wanting his annoyance to be known. He would slam things around and make sure that his footsteps were heard. A clear decision when he had spent multiple years pretending to be ghost.

He was dressed in a simple suit with his overcoat and scarf. The mold on his face looked a bit less convincing than normal and Christine wondered how it would hold through the meal. The cold was too much for Christine to agree to walk the distance so Luc escorted them to the manor in their carriage.

They arrived in a very short time. The Montbelliard's manor was larger than Erik's but had less splendor to it. The paint and architecture was in an older fashion and reminded Christine of the mansions that she had seen in paintings of rich people of a century before.

A man who she could assume was their butler opened the front door for them as he heard the carriage approach. Luc opened the door of the carriage for Erik who in turn helped Christine out.

The removed their hats and scarves after they entered and handed them to the tall and snobbish looking man.

He led them to the parlor where Sophie was waiting for them with a book in her lap unopened, clearly waiting their arrival.

"Madam and Monsieur Destler," the man announced them. Erik nodded. Christine smiled and approached Sophie with a hug which she reciprocated.

"I'm so excited to have you over. I enjoy seeing you on Sundays but lunches are a much better opportunity to get to know one another."

"Indeed," Christine smiled and followed her with Erik to the dinning room where four plates were set and a lunch was displayed for everyone.

"How is little Marie fairing," Christine started the conversation off right away. It was always easy to start a conversation when one had a child.

"She's doing wonderful. I'm looking forward for the weather to warm up a bit so that she can get some regular fresh air. I think it will do her wonders."

"It certainly will."

Erik, Christine and Sophie stood from their spots when Ludovic entered.

"Apologies, I was too absorbed in my work and lost track of the time."

He smiled at everyone and took a seat at the head after helping his wife into her seat once more.

They ate conducting a conversation comprised of mostly three participants: Christine, Sophie and Ludovic. Erik would nod every now and again or give curt answers in response to questions directed toward him from Sophie and Ludovic to encourage his conversation.

Christine worried that his stubbornness might deter the kind couple from developing a friendship with her at the least. Especially when the last topic approached.

"Where had you moved from beforehand," Sophie directed this question toward Christine who realized that she did not know how to answer.

The silence brought Ludovic to look up at them both.

Christine began to stutter on her words, which surprised Sophie. She looked between Christine and Erik with an odd look. Christine could not know what she thought, but worried nonetheless, which made her more, flustered.

"Oh, well we…"

"Provence, we came from the south." Erik drank from his glass.

"Quite a journey…" Ludovic shrugged the odd conversation off.

"Yes, my wife gets tired thinking of it." _That was certain_.

They finished their meals and left after saying their goodbyes. Sophie seemed to eye Erik a tad wearier than she had before they had come. Erik stared at Christine through the entire cabbie ride and despite the short distance she could not wait to have his gaze off of her.

The door slammed shut once more.

"Luc go to the market and fetch us more candles."

"We have plenty," Christine spoke before she thought.

"Go," Erik growled.

Luc had never faltered in the first command, sensing the need to leave the newlyweds alone.

Erik paced in the entryway. The snap of the harness on the horses brought him to turn to Christine. It was not anger but fear disguised as anger.

"Do you have any idea how close that was, we will not be attending that ball this Saturday."

"Ludovic bought it, you do not think he will convince his wife of that what you said is true if she even brings it up to him?"

"We cannot risk it."

"Risk what? There is no trace of us back to Paris. The only consistency is my name. A very common one at that."

"They will suspect something."

"Then let them. You have picked a small town for us to reside. In small towns everyone knows everyone's business. Or we must find a story to tell of our past that we can give them should you not wish for them to formulate their own tales."

Erik stared at Christine with contempt. He was capable of many things including manipulating people to do his bidding, but he could only do this through fear. She however was talented at something he was not. Making friends.

"What would you propose we say."

"As much of the truth as possible, but we do not have to give too much."

"I worked for an opera house and you changed jobs, architecture, managing, and composing on the side for pleasure. We married just before we moved here because you negotiated a decent price on the land."

"I don't believe that will be wise."

"It will be truthful and just and I will not lie to those I wish to trust me."

"I will think on it."

Christine approached him to remove his scarf.

"Why don't you seek advice on it."

"I will think on it on my own, I do not need to continue to argue with you on this topic."

"Not with me, with Father Delacroix."

He took hold of her wrist suddenly; he didn't need the words to express his dissatisfaction with the suggestion. She held her ground.

"He seems like a genuine man, he is bound by oath to keep whatever you bring to him during confessions to himself. By the law that he follows he cannot give even the police any information that he knows. If you want our marriage to work, we must get over our past."

He let go of her wrists out of disgust.

"Please," Christine placed her hand on his jawline. He had to take a moment to settle into it, "for your own sake, you don't even have to talk to him about Paris yet, just talk to him, we can go together this Thursday."

Erik removed her hand from his cheek gently and retreated up the stairs and into his office. Christine removed her coat, hat and scarf on her own wondering if she had just undid all of the work she had accomplished since they came.

She couldn't help but think of Raoul. He never would have rejected her in that manner although she never did desire to display affections with him. She chastised herself for thinking of him and took to busy work to take her mind off the coming days.


End file.
